Tantalize
by thehappyandroid
Summary: He's everywhere, and something is drawing her to him. Though, she has a gorgeous boyfriend and they're both in a busy and clandestine plan right now. Three time's the charm, non? Slightly AU. Summary is confusing; I agree.
1. Chapter 1

This is actually quite a short chapter...Apologies ;) Since FFN uses the whole screen, while Word uses only, what? 3/4 of the screen? It looks like it's longer and the paragraphs thicker. But ah well. I look like a lazy writer. R&R.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon.  
Note: Characters are slightly out of their usually persona. **

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Lyra dislikes her hair.

She always viewed it as plain and low-key. Something that wouldn't make someone stop in the streets and compliment her.

It was a washed-out chestnut colour that a majority of the world had. Lyra grew it until it hovered around her abs, trying to make it a little more interesting.

But she still detested it.

But, at Cambridge Hall, with her hair perfectly shaped with a silk sheen, and teased into a low hairdo, she felt absolutely glamorous. She constantly fingered her strapless chiffon gown, feeling like a movie star.

This time, she received stares. And she loved it.

Lyra, you see, wasn't a materialistic girl. Of course, like any girl, she didn't mind getting grand gifts and shiny things, but she didn't beg for it. But today, she suddenly felt like she should feel this way _everyday._

On the stage, a woman with scruffy dishwater blond hair curled and an overbite talked about the charity the ball was being held for. Lyra forgot what it was. Endangered animals? Schools in third-world countries? Oh well. It didn't matter anymore, did it?

She scanned the floor for her mates. She spotted Nando, who tipped his never-absent hat at her and Ritchie, who flashed a smile at her. Paris was surrounded by-in her words-perfect boys, too busy flirting with them mercilessly to see Lyra. Little Alanna stood not too far, a cherry-topped pastry in hand.

She inhaled, waiting anxiously as the woman on staged droned on and on. She decided to go people-watching.

It seemed like everyone at the benefit ball looked and had the same aura. Rich, not really caring about the charity and dressed impeccably well. Lyra spotted young women in gowns much more extravagant than her, boys being rowdy in their imported leather shoes and old geezers, chin thrust up and voices speaking highly.

Then she spotted him. Unlike most of the young men, who were fishing out for girls in their designer dresses, he leaned against the ceiling high pillars, arms crossed. He had a turtleneck-like blazer and gray pants, looking like your everyday trousers. The boy had curious blaze red hair that was much longer than the normal buzz and crew cuts.

Maybe it was the hair, or the brash yet jaded look on his face, but Lyra was strangely drawn to him. She just _couldn't _pinpoint why. She involuntarily stared at him, a glint in her eyes

It was like a hidden challenge.

And, God, Lyra loved a good challenge.

The lady on the stage kept going, her voice dropping into a fake concernment. Lyra glanced at her teammates, wondering if it was her call anytime soon. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, so Lyra drifted away from her place and towards the pillar.

She looked back, again assuring herself that _no, _it was okay to chat up for a while. Something was calling her, and she was ready to take the bait. Her regular crooked smile played on her full lips as she strode towards the boy.

"It's kind of a bore, right?" She piped nonchalantly, looking at him, and then at the stage.

He didn't answer at first. It didn't faze Lyra though.

"Sort of." The guy looked at her blankly.

"So, why'd you come?" She had her half-smile on, lowering her head so she'd look at the guy with her-yet again-plain eyes, thankfully enhanced with long mascara.

"Why do you care?" He snapped.

Lyra rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. "Why do _you _ask?"

He shifted away from her, not answering. Like as if he was paying attention to the scruffy-haired woman, who now had some bizarre chart on display.

Lyra smiled to herself. Now, he was definitely fascinating her. She could get to him. Easy.

She opened her mouth to another snarky comment when she noticed Ritchie sly walking his way out, only two pillars away. Her mouth formed an O as Ritchie gave her a knowing look before casually slinking away.

"You're not the talker, are you? I sense you're not." Lyra told him.

"You're not the quiet one, it's apparent." He replied, his face still void of expression. Lyra decided this was a perfect walk-away moment. When his eyes flickered around the room, she gave him a knowing smile when his eyes briefly landed on his. Her heels tapped away slowly but surely as her back faced away from him, walking away.

When she was out of sight, she ducked behind a pillar. Paris rushed over, seizing her arm with her unnecessarily gloved hand.

"Ethan got our guy. We're heading upstairs as backup while Nando stays watch."

Lyra pursed her lips together, her gloss pooling around her lips messily. "He knows where they are?"


	2. Chapter 2

Hopefully this chapter is a bit better. I have the last chapter finished but I'm not uploading it yet. **R&R. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon and am affiliated with any parties that do. **

* * *

"Name?"

"July St. John."

The long, rectangular desk of the Hugh Towerton Country Club took up the middle of the main room, which was framed by thin panelled windows that surrounded the walls, letting in the fluorescent light. Outdoors, golf players gossiped about their wealthy friends while their caddies rushed about frantically.

Ethan Gold wrapped an arm around Lyra's hips, pulling her to the side. They smiled at the woman at the desk, who tapped away at her chrome desktop, eyes narrowed at the screen. Ethan cleared his throat, causing the woman to look up.

"It's under my name. Harris St. John Junior." Ethan winked surreptitiously at 'July' as the lady tapped away furiously.

Lyra loved her multiple identities. A few days ago, at the Cambridge Hall Benefit Ball, she was Isobel Wilkins, foreigner with special connections. She loved acting like a naïve yet lovely foreigner. Every time she thought about Isobel Wilkins, though, she thought about the boy at the party. She repressed a sly smirk, certain that she'd left some imprint on his mind.

"Oh, my. There it is. Harris St. John Junior, and his wife July St. John." The woman exhaled tiredly. "Terribly sorry, Mr. and Mrs. St. John." Her face had a look that said, _My, you look much too young to be married!_

"Harris," 'July' whispered loudly, placing her palm on his chest. "Our yoga class…"

"Oh, great." 'Harris' snapped his fingers, taking the aviators perched on his head and settling it in the opening of his shirt. "We're late."

The lady gasped, her eyes wide. "Oh, my! I'm so sorry-"

'July' sighed sadly, lowering her oversized glasses. Lyra hoped the woman had a good glimpse of her downcast light brown eyes. The lady turned red, shifting away and typing away on her computer. Lyra swerved Ethan towards the right hallway, arm in arm. They burst out in laughter, hands clasped on their mouths.

"Nice one, Lyra!" Ethan blurted out loudly. A caddy passed by, eyes wide at the supposed 'young couple'

"Sshh," she scolded, still giggling. "It's July, Harris St. John _the Third!" _She tucked her sunglasses down the opening of her geometric patterned halter sundress. Ethan winked at her flirtatiously, in a manner as if they both shared a secret, which they did.

"Oh sorry. Yesterday, you were Isobel Wilkins."

"_Excusez-moi,_ you were Heath Barkley, grandson of the inventor sketchbooks. Of course, that's a clever identity, Harris."

"Well today, we are July and Harris St. John." Ethan said, momentarily squeezing Lyra's hands. She smiled, looking at his amber eyes playfully.

She adored Ethan. He was like a hotter male equivalent of Lyra. He was sweet, indulgent and hilariously fun to be with. In fact, they were clicked and looked so good with each other, all of their team suggested they go as the couple to Hugh Towerton, just because.

Yet, she couldn't help but grin on the inside about the redheaded boy at Cambridge. He was a inquisitive-but passing-dare to herself while she waited for her call at the benefit formal. Nothing else.

They walked down the halls with purpose, flashing a brilliant smile to whoever glimpsed at them. And a lot of people did, because they did look lovely together.

Ethan came to a abrupt stop when something in her pocket buzzed faintly.

"Text from Alanna." He explained, taking our his cell phone and opening the message. Lyra looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

"Since when does Little A have a cell phone?" she quipped.

"A couple of months ago, I think." Ethan grinned, shrugging. They gave a quick chuckle before Ethan read out the message; "The guy's there. Look around, he may be with a girl named Yuki Somers. Paris says that there's a possibility he's either at the gym, restaurant or golf course. Good luck-A"

Ethan and Lyra looked at each other, exchanging knowing gazes.

"You take the gym and restaurant. I'll take the golf course."

"Why take the golf course?" Ethan asked, eyes wide with alarm. "If Mikael bolts, you won't catch up to him. No offense, of course."

"There's no way he'll bolt, my dear." Lyra unfolded her sunglasses, perching them on her perfectly messed updo hair. "Because they won't expect a striking girl."

Ethan smiled, starting to walk away. "Clever."

Lyra shrugged, as if it just came to her. Which it did. "I have my ways."

They parted, Ethan continuing farther down the halls, while Lyra strode with purpose towards the golf course. Her one-inch heels made it a little difficult to traipse down the perfectly manicured lawns, but she survived. All thieves were trained to survive the most difficult tasks with the most difficult attire.

Then she spotted him. Messed and naturally high-lighted dark blond hair, laughing with his golf cohorts. Not to far away, a woman with gorgeous dark hair that flowed down her back like a waterfall watched him attentively, with a boastful smirk on her lips. Lyra touched her hair involuntarily, remembering that she had temporarily dyed it a beautiful shade of maroon brown. When jobs got risky, you had to pull out your disguises. That was the fun part, Lyra thought.

Fixing her glasses to shade her eyes, she sauntered slowly towards the man, who was talking to his caddy lightly, chuckling. Lyra nodded towards the man's cohorts, who blinked in surprise and unpredictably stepped back a few steps. She giggled under her breath, amazed at what a slim sundress and designer glasses can do for a girl.

"Hello," Lyra cooed, her voice low and warm.

The dark blond man swung his golf club over her shoulder and grinned broadly. "My, look at this, Jim. To what do I owe the presence of a lovely young woman like you?"

Lyra smiled her crooked smile. "I was just watching your game, and you're quite the player."

"Can't say I disagree." The man burst into loud, booming laughter. At the corner of her eye, she sneaked a peek for Yuki Somers, who thrust her chin up in defiance.

"Your name…is Mikael?" Lyra questioned, her voice as if struggling to remember the name.

"Yes, pretty lady." Mikael's voice was still welcoming, but it was softly laced with suspicion.

"Lyra's the name," She said slowly, drawing out her words. "And I was just a bit curious."

"Curious 'bout what?" His buddies were now gone, off to the bar indoors for alcohol. Yuki Somers was now slowly approaching.

"A few things about a collection…"

Sweat formed on Mikael's brow. He was bouncing on his heels in an jumpy manner. His booming and cheery aura disappeared.

And then, he bolted.

Lyra just _knew _this would happen. Charms worked, but didn't prevail. Mikael's running figure was still large and visible. She kicked off her heels and ran after him, Yuki Somers fleetingly trailing her screaming Mikael's name.

The course was dewy and cooling underneath her feet, like menthol lacing around her toes. Mikael was far, but not far enough that Lyra could just boost her speed. Her heart pounded. She could call for backup. But she could barely breathe.

_Three Cs, Ly. _She reminded herself, _Calm, cool, collected. You can handle this. _

Mikael was heading towards trees. Lyra couldn't stop. One short breathing halt, and he'd be gone. She was getting close, but not close enough. Swallowing her complaints, she ran faster.

Just by luck, the sprinklers went off. She panicked, her heart racing. Her dye! It could not fade. There were tons of people at the Towerton golf course, and one reveal of her plain hair and she'd be busted by Mikael's unknowing cronies.

She was too busy fumbling with her hands to shield her hair when she noticed her involuntary boost in bolting caused her to be a mere ten inches way. Lyra tackled Mikael, pressing her heel on his head as she grabbed the contents of his pocket. Mikael grumbled, cussing as he pushed her off. She rolled off, Mikael's running foot accidently nudging her hard in the hard, making her land on the hard woodchips on the mini forest, filled with sickly thin trees.

She coughed, out of breath. Everything was sore, and she was sure something was bleeding. Spare woodchips stuck to her bright sundress. She groaned despairingly, trying to haul herself up. As her feet struggled against the uncomfortable woodchips, a golf ball flew over, smacking a tree and landing on her leg. Lyra flinched, hoping no one would come over.

When she finally stood up, leaning against the tree and brushing off the woodchips, someone was already padding over to the forest. It was too late for her to duck behind a tree.

She gasped to see who it was.

Blaze red hair neatly combed and in preppy clothes, the Cambridge boy was there. Lyra, who barely collected herself in time, smirked. Fate while she fell down? Possibly.

"You." He murmured, straightening his shirt as he picked up the ball.

"Yes, me. Drawn to me, much?" Lyra teased flirtatiously. He rolled his eyes, lingering there. He examined Lyra, taking in her wrinkled sundress and sprinkler-touched body.

"I saw you chasing that cocky guy."

"Curious?"

"No." He answered back. Lyra twirled the PDA of Mikael between her fingers, her eyes steady on the body.

"You got what you needed from him, or something?"

"I did, definitely. But you know what I need?" Lyra asked him. "Your name."

"Silver." He answered almost immediately. His face afterwards looked like he caught himself in a mistaken act. Lyra laughed a wind chime-like laugh as she released the clip from her hair, letting the maroon-brown waves tumble down. She shook her hair, the drops of water escaping.

"Divine name." Lyra winked before strolling out of the forest. "It's Lyra."

Lyra didn't have to turn around to see Silver's blank face, watching her go before walking away himself.


End file.
